\':x 



Price, 25 cents 




PUBLISttfLD BY 

The. Dr-amatic Publishing Compant 

CHA.RLES H 5EIt.GEL. , PRESIDENT 



!l 



Practical Instructions for 
Private Theatricals 

BvW.D, EMERSON 

Author of *»A Country Romance/' *'The Unknown RivaJ/' 

** Humble Pie," etc. 



Price, 25 cents 



Herp -3 a practical hand-book, describing in detai] all th€ 
accessoiies, properties, scenes and apparatus necessary for an 
amateur production. In addition to the descriptions in words, 
everything is cdeaiiy shown in the numerous pictures, more 
.than one hundred being inserted in the book. iS'o such useful 
book has ever been offered to the amateur players of any 
country. 

CONTENTS 

Chapter I. Introductory Kemarks. 

Chapter II. Stage, How to Make, etc. In drawing-rooms 
or parlors, with sliding or hinged doors. In a single large 
room. The Curtain; how to attach it, and raise it, etc. 

Chapter III. Arrangement of Scenerjr. How to hang it. 
Drapery, tormentors, wings, borders, drops. 

Chapter IV. Box Scenes. Center door pieces, plain wings, 
door wings, return pieces, etc. 

Chapter V. How to Light the Stage. Oil, gas and electric 
light. Footlights, Sidelights, Eeflectors. Jr:iOw to darken the 
stage, etc. 

Chapter VI. Stage E/fects. Wind, Eain, Thunder, Break- 
ing Glass, Falling UwUdjngs, Snow, Water, Waves, Cascades, 
Passing Trains, Lightiiilg, Chimes, Sound of Horses' Hoofs, 
fihots. *•* ^ 

Chapter VII. Scene Painting. 
Chapter VIII. A Word to the Property Man, 
Chapter IX. To the Stage Manager. 
Chapter X. The Business Manager. 

Address Orders to 
THE DRAMATIC PUBLISHING COMPANY 

CHICAGO. ILLINOIS 



LONESOME MILE 



WESTERN COMEDY DRAMA 

In Two Acts 



BY 
GEORGE M, ROSENER 



CHICAGO 
THE DRAMATIC PUBLISHING COMPANY 



CAST OF CHAEACTEES 

Clorinda Day, the boss of Lonesome Mile; wears a neat 
white home made dress and sunhonnet. She is a girl 
of twenty-one years, possessing the sweetness and 
charm of a much older person; withal she has a 
remarkable steadfastness of purpose. 

Eake Day^ her brother; a young cub of about seventeen 
years of age; stubborn and ill mannered. He tries to 
be a man but goes the wrong way about it. Costume: 
Boots, rough trousers, flannel shirt, vest, handkerchief 
about the neck and broad brimmed hat. 

Sam Brabcon, the proprietor of the Crystal; a man of 
about forty years of age. Unscrupulous though con- 
vincing. Black liair slightly grey at the temples. Cor- 
duroy pants and neat boots, low collar and loose bow 
tie, light linen coat and Stetson hat. 

Lem Jimson^ Sam's partner; a tall, lean, clean-shaven 
man of about fifty years. Grey haired. Dresses simi- 
larly to Sam, though with a leaning to a much more 
gaudy effect. 

KiLLEM BoGGS, a real bad 7nan; fat and fifty. Very little 
hair. Dresses similar to Rake. 

Crusty, the sheriff; a big man with a big voice and a 
crusty disposition. Bed haired and a full beard of 
the same color. Dresses after the same pattern as 
Killem and in addition he carries a brace of guns. 

Ed Thayer, a stranger in town; a man of about thirty- 
five years of age. His hair is snow white, his beard is 
of about three days' growth, his eyes are sunken back 
in his head and his skin is drawn and brown. His 
clothes, which are similar to those worn by Crusty, 
are torn and covered with dirt and alkali. 

Boyd Jackson, a mining engineer; a man of about twenty- 
eight or twenty-nine years. Easy and care-free of 
manner. Stetson' hat, light summer shirt and coat, 
corduroy trousers and high lace boots. 

Mrs. Tredwell, Clorinda's friend; a big woman with a 
big heart, about forty years of age. Dresses in a coarse 
wrapper and apron. 

. Plays an hour and three-quarters. 

Copyright, 1912, by the Dramatic Publishing Company 

2 

TMP96-CG7i21 

©CI.D 31843 



LONESOME MILE 

ACT I 

Scene: A rough interior. Doors right, left and center. 
A Jong low practical windoiv up center in flat. Home made 
curtains cover the window. Through tJie ivindow can he 
seen the, prairie tvith the mountains in the distance. The 
window is open. A practical lock on D. R. lamp on table. 
Right of the window are some pegs driven into the wall, 
used as a hat rack. Left of the window is a cupboard, the 
upper part of which contains dishes and the lower part 
various drawers, A stove which is evidently used for heating 
during the winter stands down left against the wall. Down 
right against the wall is a sewing machine. Left of the 
sewing machine is a deep rocking chair. A long towel and 
roller hangs on the wall right. Two rather long tables are 
set ivith their head pointing up center, the other ends point 
one toward the stove and the other toward the machine. 
These tables are covered with a cheap and gaudy table oil- 
cloth. Plates, cups, knives and forks are placed for about 
twenty persons. On the end of the table left are a number 
of old neivspapers. Up stage almost between the heads of 
the two long tables is a small table and a chair, on the table 
is a phonograph. On both sides of the two long tables are a 
number of kitchen chairs. An old rag carpet adorns the 
floor and various pictures cut from magazines are pasted on 
the walls, together with the following signs. 

BREKFAST 4 BITS. $100 REWARD LEADIN' 

DINER DITO. TO THE ARREST OF 

SUPER SAME. JO. SANTOS. 

EAT - TRADE OR JEROME SPLIN, ES- 

TRAVEL. SAY ST AND MINING 

COMMING SOON. PROMOTER JUST 

PROF. SLICKS MAR- ACROSS THE STREET. 

VELOUS MOVING PIC- MUSIC, FARO AND 

TERES. GOOD LIQUOR AT THE 

CRYSTAL. 



4 LONESOME MILE 

[At rise of curtain it is evident that shipper lias been 
done aivay with for an hour or more. Seated about the 
stage are Crusty, Killem, Bale, Sam and Lem. Mrs. T. is 
up G. attending to the phonograph. The curtain rises on 
the last strains of a phonograph, record.'] 

Mrs. T. There now ! What do you all think of that? 

Crusty. Them ar machines is sure a wonderful inven- 
tion. 

Eake. Better than any show I ever saw if yort^ask me. 

Killem. Wal, Ah'll tell yer. Thirty years ago we never 
had none o' these here new contraptions and we lived jest 
the same. 

Mrs. T. Killem Boggs, 3^ou ain't got no more sense'n 
a jack rabbit. You're fer ever a talkin' about them old 
days. Ter hear you talk you'd think that you was as old 
as Methusalem. 

Killem. And who was he? 

Mrs. T. Methusalem was the oldest man that ever 
lived. I should think you'd know that. 

Killem. A¥al, how old was the cuss? 

Mrs. T. He was no cuss, Killem Boggs, ah'll have you 
understand that. 

Killem. Oh, Ah didn't mean it that away. No 'fence 
meant. Was he a friend o' yourn? 

Mrs. T. I should say not. He lived thousands and 
hundreds of years ago. He's in the bible. 

Killem. Oh ! And how old was he did you say ? 

Mrs. T. I didn't say. But if yo want to know, he 
lived to be more'n a thousand years old. 

Killem. [Almost falls backivard with surprise.'] What? 

Mrs. T. I said Methusalem was more'n a thousand 
years old. 

Killem. Mrs. T. I hope you ain't been drinkin'. 

[All laugh,.] 

Mrs. T. Oh fiddle! You men make me sick. You 
don't know nuthin'. 

Killem. Wal, Mrs. T., them days you speak of was 
sure the old days, but when I say old days I mean the old 
days that I knew. In them days a man could shoot up a 



LONESOME MILE 5 

friend if he wanted to and nuthin' would be said about it. 
But now a days if a man gets killed there's a awful fuss 
kicked up about it. I say — and I don't care who hears it — 
I say the west is goin' to the dogs, them eastern tenderfeet 
have made a picnic ground of all the land this side of the 
Eockies. I can remember the time when I killed ten men 
in one week. Now, let me see, I think it was on the first 
day of November in the year eighty two; I was walkin' 
along when up comes Bad Pete and he says to me — 

Mks. T. Fergit it. 

KiLLEM. Wal if you folks don't care to hear interestin' 
reminiscences of the good old days I ain't a goin' ter force 
yo all to listen. 

Sam. Speaking of tenderfeet. Has that mining engin- 
eer who is going to look over the Lonesome Mile claim of 
the Boss's arrived in camp yet ? 

Eake. AYhen the Denver train came through yesterday, 
not a soul gofoff at this God-forsaken jerk-water. Say, even 
the conductor didn't come down off the platform, he just 
chucked Lonesome Joe the despatches and sent his train 
right on through. Oh, this is a swell burg, this is ! 

Mes. T. You was born here, I should think you'd re- 
member that. 

Eake. I wish I'd never seen this old hole, I can tell 
you that ! 

Lem. Where's the Boss, Mrs. T. ? 

Mrs. T. Went to the post office to mail a letter fer me. 

Eake. I wish she'd stay home so that a feller could talk 
to her, here's Mr. Brabcon come over here to talk with her 
about buyin' our claim and she not here. What's she 
thinkin' of ? 

Mrs. T. Accordin' to your grandfather's will your sister 
can't sell that claim until she is twenty-one years of age. 

Eake. Wal she'll be that tomorrow, won't she ? 

Sam. Me and Lem here stand ready and willin' to offer 
her ten thousand dollars fer that claim of hern, and Eake 
and everybody here abouts knows that that's a whole heap 
more'n it's worth. 

Mrs. T. And you're payin' ten thousand fer a claim 
that you know ain't worth that much? You must think 



6 LONESOME MILE 

we're all fools in this camp. Tell that story to the moon; 
mebbe she'll believe it, I won't and don't. 

Lem. We're makin' this handsome offer because we are 
all powerful fond of the Boss and her brother, Eake here. 
We knew their father and we want to see them two kids 
get along. 

Mrs. T. [Sarcastically.] And you two are a doin^ of 
this all out o' charity ? Wal ain't that nice ! But I'm 
afered that some one with a bigger throat than mine will 
have to swallow that story, it kinder sticks in my wind pipe. 

Eake. You women folks don't know nuthin' about 
business deals, that's the trouble ! 

Mrs. T. Is that so? Well now, who'd a thunk it? 

Sam. I hope, Mrs. T., you ain't got the idea that Lem 
and me would do anything but wliat was right by Rake 
and his sister. 

Mrs. T. I find from long and hard experience that when 
a man wants a woman or money there ain't nuthin' he won't 
:lo. 

Lem. Mrs. T., you're what book writers call a philoso- 
pher. 

Mrs. T. I don't know what them are, but if you mean 
r got horse sense, I'm one of em. 

Boyd. [Enters D. R.] Good evening folks. 

All. Good evenin'. 

Boyd. Is the landlord about? 

Mrs. T. No she ain't. She will be here shortly though. 
Is there anything I can do for you ? 

Boyd. You can if you will be so kind, I just rode over 
from Mud Hole and I'm all in. I want to get a bed and 
room if possible. 

Mrs. T. Wal I guess I can fix you up. 

Boyd. Thank you. 

Sam. Are you the engineer who is to look over The 
Boss of Lonesome Mile Claim ? 

Boyd. No, not exactly. I am in the employ of the 
engineer. You see I am to look over the claim and if I 
think it is worth while my boss will come on here himself. 

Lem. Might I ask who is thinkin' of buying this here 
claim ? 



LONESOME MILE 7 

Boyd. A gentleman from Denver and by the way his 
name is the same as mine. 

Crusty. And that is? 

Boyd. Boyd Jackson is my name and also the gentle- 
man's name from Denver who intends to buy this claim. 

Sam. If this claim is all-right, when would your boss 
arrive in town to close the deal? 

Boyd. In about a week. 

Sam. [Aside to Lcm.~] That gives us a week to get busy 
and grab this mine. 

Lem. How much will this Mr. Jackson of Denver offer 
fer The Boss Of Lonesome Mile Claim providin' its O.K. ? 

Boyd. Do you own the claim? 

Lem. Wal no. 

Boyd. Then I must decline to answer your c[uestion. 

Lem. Wal yer needn't be so damned perlite about it. 

Boyd. Well then, it's none of your business. How does 
that strike you. 

Lem. Why Ah'll bust your — 

Crusty, [interferes.'] Here stow that lingo. Where 
do you fellers think you are, in a bar room? 

Mrs. T. [To Boyd.'] AYould you care to see your room 
now, sir? 

Boyd. If you would be so kind. 

Mrs. T. Eight this way. [She goes to d. l. and stands 
aside to let Boyd pass. Boyd stands aside and hows.] 

Boyd. After you. Miss, by all means. [Mrs. -T. exits 
D. L. followed hy Boyd.] 

Killem. Ain't he perlite though ? 

Sam. I wonder if his mother knows he's out? 

[All laugh.] 

Lem. After seein' anything like that I think we all need 
to moisten up a little. 

Sam. You took the words right out o' my mouth Lem. 
If you boys will step over to my place the house will set em 
up. [All hut Sam exit d. r. talking. Eake is the last to 
exit; as he 7'eaches the door, Sam calls him hack.] Wait a 
minute, Eake, I want to have some words with yo' all. 

Eake. Ah'm listenin' ! 

Sam. See here, Eake, old pal, in a few hours, as one 



8 LONESOME MILE 

might say, your sister will be of age and accordin' to law 
have the right ter sell the claim your grandpap left ter 
you and her. Now I'm a friend o' yourn and as I told you, 
me and Lem stand ready ter buy the claim fer real money. 
Now here's the idea, somebody might come along and offer 
your sister more than we do and she bein' a female and 
knowin' nothin' about business would sell; and right there 
is where she'd make the biggest mistake of her life as far 
as you are concerned, because if I get this claim I'll make 
you my general manager as soon as I start workin' it. See ? 
Now I want you to bring your sister around to our way of 
thinking. 

Eake. That's just it. She won't listen to me. She 
thinks that because I'm only seventeen that I am still a boy. 

Sam. [Worl'ing upon Eake^s feelings and treating him 
as if he was a man of his oivn age.] Get out. Is that a fact? 
Why, say, you've got a wiser head on you Eake than half 
the men in this town. 

Eake. That's just what I tell her, but what's a feller 
goin' to do when he's got a fool sister ? 

Sam. And what does she say when you tell her that ? 

Eake. You know what she says; she's only a girl and 
what do they know? Why she don't give me but a dollar 
a w^eek fer spending money. 

Sam. a dollar a week ? Wal that's good. Say when I 
was your age I didn't think nothin' of spending a dollar fer 
a pack of cigerettes. 

Eake. Here she's got this place here and she takes in all 
kinds of money, but I never see any of it. She's always 
broke when I want any money, either that or she has a lot 
of bills to pay. Only to-day I asked her fer some change 
and she said she didn't have a cent, had to pay my insurance 
or somethin' like that. Can you beat it ? 

Sam. That's funny. 

Eake. What's funny? 

Sam. Why this morning she brought a hundred dollar 
bill over to my place and had it changed into twenties. 
Insurances don't come that high, do they? 

Eake. Well she'll give some of that to me or I'll know 
the reason why. 

Sam. Now don't do anything you'd be sorry for. Come 



LONESOME MILE 9 

over to my place and buck the tiger fer an hour or so and 
you'll feel better. 

Eake. I tell yer I haven't got a cent. 

Sam. That's so, I never thought of that. 

Rake. Gee, I wish I knew somebody who would lend me 
a couple of hundred. 

Sam. a couple of hundred? What would you do wiih 
that much money ? 

Rake. I'd go over to your place and bust the bank. I 
feel lucky all over tonight. 

Sam. I might let you have it if I was sure of getting it 
back. 

Rake. Why you know me Sam. 

Sam. I know, but business is business. Ah'll tell you 
what, I got an idea that will put me on the safe side — oh, 
but then what's the use of talking about it, you'd never be 
willin' to do it. Not in a thousand years. [He takes out 
a roll of hills and carelessly tosses it from one hand to the 
other. Rake follows the movement with feverish anticipa- 
tion.] 

Rake. I tell you Ah'd do anything fer a loan of a few 
bucks. 

Sam. If you mean business Ah'll talk. Now here's my 
idea, Ah'll make out a cheque and you sign Lem Jimson's 
name to it and Ah'll let you have two hundred cash. 

Rake. But that will be — 

Sam. Forgery ? * No it won't either because tlie bank 
will never see it. 

Rake. But why can't I use my name? Why can't I 
give you a note? 

Sam. Well you see its this way; I ain't sayin' that you 
are going to do me out of this money, but business is busi- 
ness, you know that. Your note would be no good 'cause 
you ain't of age, and if you give me a cheque signed with 
Jimson's name I know fer sure that you ain't goin' to do 
anything crooked 'cause I got something on yer. See? 
And when you come into your share of your claim x^h'll 
turn over the cheque and you hand me back my two 
hundred. 

Rake. It sounds all right. 

Sam. It is all right. I'm only protectin' myself that's 



10 LONESOME MILE 

all. [He talces out a cheque hook and fountain pen and 
fills in a cheque.'] 

Eake. I don't think I care to do that, Sam. 

Sam. Just as you saj. [Takes out the roll of hills, 
pats it and returns it to his pocket.] Money is money no 
matter who has it. Wal, Ah guess Ah'll be movin' along. 
Good night. 

Rake. Wait a minute. You won't ever say a word to 
Jimson, or my sister or anybody if I sign the cheque will 
yer? 

Sam. Not a soul. 

Eake. All right, I'll sign. [Sa^n hands him the cheque 
and pen. He forges Jimsons name.] There. [Sam puts 
the cheque in his pocket and hands Eake the two hundred 
dollars.] 

Sam. I knew you had the right stuff in you Eake. 
You're a real man right to the core. 

Eake. You won't tell my sister, will you? She and me 
ain't got the same ideas about some things but then you 
know she's my sister and the only mother I ever knew. 

Sam. No, don't worry. Leave it to me. A'm yer friend 
ain't I ? 

Eake. You bet you are. 

Sam. Now you take that money and run right along 
over to my place and see if you can't work it up to a 
thousand. 

Eake. Sam you're a prince. If the cards come my way 
I'll pay you back this money tonight. [Exit d. r.] 

Sam. If the cards come his way? Not in my game, 
sonny. Hm? That kid ain't got enough sense ter last 
him over night. [Boyd enters d. l. Sam turns quickly.] 
Oh, it's you, eh ? 

Boyd. Yes it's me. 

Sam. Kinder quiet around here fer you, I suppose. 

Boyd. Yes, rather that way. 

Sam. There's some great games runnin' over at my 
place, Ah'd like ter have you try yer luck. 

Boyd. Thanks, I never gamble. 

Sam. Come over and have a drink then. 

Boyd. I never drink either. 

Sam. Then have a segar. 



LONESOME MILE 11 

Boyd. I am much obliged but I never use the weed. 

Sam. Who's sayin' anything about weeds? I'm talkin' 
about tobacco. 

Boyd. Never touch it. 

Sam. Do you ever eat hay? 

Boyd. Xo. 

Sam. Then you ain't fit to associate with man or beast 
are you? 

Boyd. Are you? 

Sam. 0' course I am. 

Boyd. Then there's hope for me. 

Sam. Pretty fresh ain't yer? 

Boyd. Am I ? 

• Sam. You're like all tenderfeet. Yer got your lesson 
ter learn and yer'll learn it before yer many days in this 
camp, believe me. 

Boyd. I believe you. 

Sam. This old maid's gab ain't goin' ter get either one 
of us anything, is it? 

Boyd. Not a thing. 

Sam. Now we're men o' the world ain't we ? 

Boyd. I hope so. 

Sam. That's more like it. Now we're gettin' so we 
can talk sensible. You're here to report on a certain mine, 
am I right ? 

Boyd. You are. 

Sam. Suppose I was ter tell you that this Lonesome 
Mile claim ain't worth blastin' powder, what then? 

Boyd. I think I should have to find that out for myself. 

Sam. Eight again. Now I don't suppose you are rollin' 
in wealth, are you ? 

Boyd. Well, I haven't got more than I know what to 
do with, that's sure. 

Sam. No, none of us has. Now suppose I was to offer 
3^ou a few hundred to take my word fer it that the Boss Of 
Lonesome Mile Claim ain't w^orth salt and to take the next 
train out of this camp. 

Boyd. You mean that you are trying to bribe me to 
throw my employer's chances to get this mine for a few 
hundred dollars. 

Sam. That's kinder an ugly way to put it, but that's 



12 LONESOME MILE 

about the size of it, just the same. What would you say if 
1 made you an offer like that ? 

Boyd. I wouldn't say anything. 

Sam. No ? 

Boyd. No. I might get whipped for it but I think 
I'd take a chance and knock you down. 

Sam. Then it's ter be a fight fer this claim eh ? 

Boyd. That's it. 

Sam. Then let me tell you something, son. 

Boyd. What is it, father ? 
. Sam. You're going to get the worst beating of your 
life. 

Boyd. Now let me tell you something ; for some reason 
or other, you dislike me and for the little while I have been 
here you have done all in your power to make things as 
unpleasant for me as possible. You're trying to do a young 
girl and a boy out of a piece of property for a few thousand 
dollars when you know it to be worth ten times the amount 
you offered. 

Sam. Who told you all this ? 

Boyd. The lady who showed me to my room. 

Sam. She's a fool. 

Boyd. I could say you're a gentleman, but I won't. 

Sam. Put a bridle on that kind of gab. You're in the 
west out here and men have been filled full of lead fer less 
than that. 

Boyd. Maybe so, fifty years ago. But this is 19 — , not 
1861. [He starts to exit d. r., and runs into Lem iuJlo 
enters.'] I beg your pardon. 

Lem. Beg and be damned, that don't do my corns any 
good. Why don't you look where you're going. 

Boyd. I ask your pardon — what more can I do? I 
really didn't see you. 

Lem. Can't you see nuthin' ? 

Boyd. I seem to see you all right. 

Lem. What do you mean by that, eh ? 

Sam. Keep cool, Lem. We'll make him sing a different 
song in a few days. I got something up my sleeve that'll 
take him off his feet. 

Boyd. Yes, and I know what it is. 

Sam. [Surprised.] What^ 



LONESOME MILE 13 

Boyd. Your cuff. [^Exit d. r.] 

Lem. Are you going to let him get away with that ? 

Sam. He's a fool tenderfoot — let it go at that. 

Lem. I know, but them ar tenderfeet need some one ter 
teach em a lesson and I am jest the pinto who can do that 
same. 

Sam. Oh fergit it. Ah've got some business to talk 
over with you. 

Lem. Let her rip. 

Sam. I got the Boss of Lonesome Mile Claim cinched. 

Lem. Has the gal consented ter sell? 

Sam. No, but she will. 

Lem. I fail ter get yer. Make it plain. 

Sam. I framed up a little story, got her fool brother to 
forge your name to a cheque fer the loan of a few hundred 
dollars and there you are. 

Lem. And there I ain't. What's the idea? 

Sam. If the gal don't come to our terms we can hold 
the forged cheque over her head and then she can have her 
choice of selling at any old price we see fit to give or seeing 
her brother in jail. I play the part of the friend of the 
family and you fit in as the stern and injured party. Savvy ? 

Lem. Sam, you should be president of these here United 
States. When do we start in on this round up? 

Sam. As soon as possible. Ah'm goin' ter see the gal 
ter night if Ah can. Say, Lem, wouldn't it be easier if I 
was ter marry the gal and settle the whole shootin' match 
that way? 

Lem. [Very much affected.'] Sam, Sam, with tears in 
my eyes I ask you not to do anything like that. 

Sam. You speak as if the gal was a wild cat. AVhere's 
the harm ? 

Lem. That's jest it. It's them innocent lookin' ones 
that has the straightest aim. 

Sam. What are you all gett'n' at? 

Lem. I was married onct, Sam, and ter look at her you'd 
think she wouldn't hurt a fly, but Sam, oh Sam, how she 
could chuck. Do you see that scar behind my head and 
that one back o' my ear ? 

Sam. Yes. 

Lem. Wal them is the times she missed the mark. 



14 LONESOME MILE 

Sam. Them is the times she missed? 

Lem. Yep. Say, you ought ter see my back between 
the shoulder blades. I got so many scars thar that I look 
like Ah was tattooed. Sam, no matter what that lady threw 
or where she threw it from, it landed right between my 
shoulders. As I was just observin', the only time she ever 
missed her mark was the time she opened up the back of 
my head and onct when she took ter slicin' off an inch o' 
ma ear. 

[Sam laughs heartily.'] 

Lem. Say, pard, do you know, every time I pass the plot 
where ma wife is buried, Ah jest naturally duck. 

Sam. Never you mind, Lem, when once we get The Boss 
of Lonesome Mile Claim we'll have enough money ter buy 
a hundred wives if we want em. 

Lem. Not me, pal. If I buy any wives, Ah'll jest buy 
em for the pleasure o' killin' em. 

Sam. Looks ter me like you was a woman hater, Lem. 

Lem. I hate em worse'n a Morman hates a hall bedroom 
and Ah'm here ter state that's hatin' some. 

Sam. Get out. Say, I allers had a sneakin' idea that yo' 
all was some sweet on this Tredwell person. 

Lem. What, me sweet on that hitchin' post? No, 
thanks ; I ain't a sidin' up to no human antique. 

[Mrs. T. enters d. l. and overhears the conversation.'] 

Sam. I'm only speakin' from what I hear the boys say. 
You know she does look at you all with more than a passin' 
look, as one might say. 

Lem. [Somewhat flattered.] Wal, it's like this. You 
know, Sam, I ain't so all fired homely, and if this Tredwell 
woman does admire me she shows some good taste at that, 
but in the language o' the poets she ain't got a chance. 

Mrs. T. [Coming down stage.] And she ain't lookin' 
fer any neither. 

Sam. Good evenin' Lem. [Duchs out of d. r.] 

Lem. Wait a minute, I'm goin' your way, Sam. [He 
starts for D. R., hut Mrs. T. heads him off and stands with 
her hack against the door.] 

Mrs. T. No, you ain't, nuther. 

Lem. Look here. Ah got ter see a man. 



LONESOME MILE 15 

Mrs. T. Wal, you'll see me first and hear what Ah got 
ter say. 

Lem. Ah tell you — 

Mrs. T. You don't pass this door until you hear what 
Ah got to say unless you knock me down, and if you think 
you can do that [Rolls up her sleevesJ] come on. 

Lem. I ain't takin' no advantages of no woman. 

Mrs. T. That's where you show some good sense; you 
low down muzzle loadin' claim jumper. 

Lem. Who's a claim jumper ? 

Mrs. T. Sit down. 

Lem. What? 

Mrs. T. Sit down afore yer knocked down. 

Lem. What have Ah ever done ter you ? 

Mrs. T. Nothin', and whaf s more you ain't ever goin^ 
ter get a chance — not if Ah see you first, you ain't. "I don't 
stand a chance" with you. Where did you ever get the idea 
that I would even look at you if Ah could help maself ? Me 
fall in love with you ! Why, your whole carcass ain't fit 
ter wad a gun. 

Lem. Ah must be gettin' popular. 

Mrs. T. With me you're as popular as a deceased pole 
cat. 

Lem. When you have reckoned up that you're about 
finished with your fancy gab let me know 'cause Ah got an 
important engagement. 

Mrs. T. Whose kids are you tryin' ter rob now ? 

Lem. Did you say "rob" ? 

Mrs. T. I did, and when Ah spoke them words Ah spoke 
a heap o' gospel. 

Lem. Don't you fergit that Ah'm a lawyer? Them 
words o' your'n might be used against you afor the bar o' 
justice. Ah could prosecute Mrs. T. usin' the aforesaid 
law fer that same purpose. 

Mrs.- T. You talk like a drunken injun. [Snaps her 
fingers.] That for you and your law. Why, you're a dis- 
grace to human nature, ter say nothin' o' the law. 

Lem. Might Ah ask without givin' offence how long 
you reckon it will be before you're done splutterin' ? 

Mrs. T. Ah jest want ter tell you that Ah'm on ter 



16 LONESOME MILE 

this game yon and Sam Brabcon are hatchin' and then you 
can go. 

Lem. What do yon mean by game? 

Mrs. T. That yon two are tryin' ter do Clorinda and 
her brother ont o' their claim. 

Lem. So that's what yon think ? 

Mrs. T. No, that's what Ah know. Clorinda is the only 
other female in this camp, and Ah'm goin' ter stick by her 
because Ah've grown ter love the gal; and even if I hated 
her Ah'd stand with her again yon because Ah hate that 
ugly face o' yourn worse than you hate the truth. You and 
Brabcon have got me ter reckon with and Ah guess you 
won't find me no slouch. Now you can get out. 

Lem. [Crosses to d. r., hows with exaggerated polite' 
ness.'] Good evcnin', sweet summer breeze. [Exit d. r.] 

Mrs. T. Varmint. [Picks up a cup and throws it 
through the door.'] 

Lem. [Off stage.'] Ow! Eight between the shoulders. 

Mrs. T. [Indignantly arranges and rearranges the 
dishes, etc., on the table.] Me in love with him, me, me ! 
I-I-I-should have beat him over the head with something. 
It was a lucky thing fer him that I am of an easy goin' 
disposition. 

KiLLEM. [Puts his head in at d. r.] Hello. 

Mrs. T. Back again, are you? [She raises a dish as if 
she was about to throw it when she realizes who has spoken.] 
Oh, it's you, is it ? 

KiLLEM. Yes, it's me. What seems ter be the trouble? 

Mrs. T. I thought it was Lem Jimson. 

KiLLEM. [Entering the room.] What's ailin' atween 
you and him ? 

Mrs. T. What would you say he was allers a doin' if 
you was asked? 

KiLLEM. Anything that ain't square. 
Mrs. T. That's it. 

KiLLEM. He ain't a been doin' or a sayin' anythin"^ again 
you, has he? 

Mrs. T. He was mighty insultin' if that's what you 
mean. 

KiLLEM. Oh, he was ! [Draws a big gun from his hip.'] 



LONESOME MILE 17 

Wal, Ali'll jest hunt him up and endeavor to fix his clock f or 
him. 

Mrs. T. No, Boggs ; wait a minute. 

KiLLEM. No man can insult you and me hear of it 
without me givin' the coroner a hurry up job. 

Mrs. T. Ah gave him a piece o' my mind that will stay 
with him fer some time ; let it go at that. 

KiLLEM. That ain't the thing. In the old days a man 
would be all shot up fer less than this Jimson person has 
done and I guess times ain't so alfired civilized but what 
Ah can halt this cayote afore he can peddle much o' this 
bluff o' hisn. 

Mrs. T. Killem, please ! 

KiLLEM. That's just what Ah intend doin'. 

Mrs. T. No, Ah mean Killem please don't. 

KiLLEM. [^Holding out his gun.] Do you see that ar 
gun? 

Mrs. T. Yes. 

Killem. Do you see them ar notches ? 

Mrs. T. Ah've many times afore, Boggs. 

Killem. Each one o' them notches means Ah've assisted 
some in the plugging o' some individual to maintain the law 
and order o' some community. Ah'm known in these parts 
as a bad man and Ah've got ter live up to my reputation. 
Savvy ? 

Mrs. T. Please, Boggs, please. 

Killem. Jest let me wing 'em, Mrs. T., and Ah will 
rest easy. 

Mrs. T. [Lays her hand on his to restrain hijn.] No, 
Killem, for my sake. 

Killem. [Puts up his gun.] Wal that's a plea Ah 
cannot resist. You know that, Matilda. 

Mrs. T. [Bridling.] Killem Boggs, how can you? 

Killem. Yas, Killem Boggs, how can I ? Say, Matilda, 
did you ever stop to consider that you are an all powerful 
fine lookin' critter? 

Mrs. T. Have you been drinkin' ? 

Killem. Ah have. Ah've been drinkin' the love light 
in your eyes until Ah'm sure enough love locoed. Ali'm 
intoxicated with a desire to please yo' all, and yo' all alone. 
Ah will hang upon your every wish like sea weed on a clam. 



18 LOJ^ESOME MILE 

Mrs. T. Where in the name o' goodness did you hear 
that? 

KiLLEM. Ah read it in the Sunday Denver paper. 

Mrs. T. What does it mean? 

KiLLEM. It means that arter due consideration on my 
part Ah have decided that Ah will marry you providin' you 
can see it the same way. 

Mrs. T. What ! 

KiLLEM. Now don't go off like you was stung by a bee. 

Mrs. T, You sure do take my breath away. 

KiLLEM. When you get it back again let me know and 
Ah will go on with the proposin'. Ah ain't in no hurry. 

Mrs. T. But, Killem Boggs, Ah'm a widow with s'x 
children. 

KiLLEM. AVhat o' that? Ah'm a widower with six o' 
ma own. And if you ask me, thar ain't nothin' like an even 
dozen. 

Mrs. T. What will the neighbors say? At our time o' 
life, too. 

KiLLEM. Say? If they say anythin' but congratula- 
tions Ah'll shove a shootin' iron down their throat and 
make 'em wisli they hadn't said nothin'. 

Mrs. T. 'Now that would be a nice proceedin' for a^ 
groom, wouldn't it? 

KiLLEM. Oh, the devil with that ! Listen here, l\Iatilda. 
I ain't got no fortune, but Ah've got enough fer you and 
me and a couple of dozen kids ter live right comfortable on. 

Mrs. T. Boggs! 

KiLLEM. Ah love you, Matilda, and Ah know you're a 
woman any man could be proud of. There's the whole durn 
case as it stands. Now, what's the verdict? 

Mrs. T. [Goes into his arms.] Yes, Boggs! 

Killem. [Yells.] Yip ! Yee ! 

Mrs. T. Ah'm so upset Ah don't jest know which end 
Ah'm on. Ah've got to go along home and think it all 
over. 

Killem. Wal, Ah'll go with yer. 

Mrs. T. No, not now, Boggs. 

Killem. Why not? 

Mrs. T. Ah've got ter walk out in the air and talk it all 
over with maself. 



LONESOME MILE 19 

KiLLEM. Jest as you say. But hold on, Matilda. Ah 
want ter whisper somethin' in yer ear. 
Mrs. T. What is it ? 

[KiLLEM pretends that he is about to whisper in her ear 

and instead he I'isses her loud and strong upon 

her cheel'.] 

Mrs. T. [Blushing.] Killem Boggs ! Ah'd be ashamed. 

[Exit D. R.] 

Killem. [Wipes his mouth tvitli the had' of Ids hand.'] 
H-m-m-m-m-ni-ma ! Sweeter than honey and not half so 
sticky. Killem Boggs, you're a wonder. Killem, you're 
a lucky dog. Boggsy, old boy, you're a son of a gun, a reg- 
ular son of a gun. 

[He dances about from sheer joy. Crusty enters d. r. and 
lool-s on in amazement.] 

Crusty. What the devil ! Have you gone locoed? 

Killem. Wait 'till yer hear it. 

Crusty. Hear what? 

Killem. Come here. 

[He whispers in Crusty's ear. Crusty shows great 

surprise.] 
Crusty. 'No. 
Killem. Yes, by thunder. 

[He whispers something else in his ear, at which both have 
a good laugh.] 
Crusty. When ? 

[Killem again whispers in his ear, and they laugh louder 

than before. Crusty then whispers in Killem's 

ear, and they laugh until they have to 

hold their sides.] 

Killem. Say you won't tell no one? 

Crusty. Honor bright. 

Killem. Then let's wet up a little. 

[Arm in arm they exit D. R., singing the Wedding March, 

using La da de da da da da Dum de de da da 

da da in place of luords.] 



20 LONESOME MILE 

[When KiLLEM and Crusty exit, Sam lools in at the 

window. He looks about the room as if he expected 

to see someone. Suddenly he ducks down 

and out of sight. Boyd at the same 

time enters d. r.] 

Boyd. Hello ! Someone was looking in that window as 
I entered. [Goes to ivindow.~\ No one in sight now. 
[Sits at table l and picks up some of the papers and maga- 
zines that are lying there, fingering them in a careless 
manner as he speaTvS.'] I wish I could see the girl who 
owns this claim and get my business settled up here; one 
hour in a town like this is about all my constitution can 
stand. I'll bet I can describe this girl to a dot without 
ever having seen her. In the first place, she has red hair. 
[Clorinda enters and stands in the doorway of d. r.] 
Then I'll bet she has big feet and coarse hands. [As he 
mentions each of these Clor. looks at her own hands and 
feet.] And her face I bet would stop a clock. [He looks 
up and happens to see Clor. Starts, jumps to his feet, 
and removes his hat.] 1 beg your pardon ! 

Clor. Not at all. 

Boyd. Won't you be seated? 

Clor. Thank you. [Sits r.] 

Boyd. [/Isi^f^?.] A summer boarder from Denver, or 
I'll eat my vest. [To Clor.] Rather nice weather they 
are having here, don't you think? 

Clor. Yes. 

Boyd. A l^it hot, though, I should say. Don't you find 
it so ? 

Clor. Yes. 

Boyd. You must excuse me for not seeing you when 
you first came in. I was talking to myself. 

Clor. That's all right. Please continue the conversa- 
tion? Don't let me disturb you. 

Boyd. I was just describing to myself a certain young 
lady that I have been sent out here to interview. 

Clor. Indeed ? 

Boyd. Yes; I am in the employ of a Mr. Jackson, of 
Denver, and I was sent out here to look over a certain 
claim called the Boss of Lonesome Mile, and to make the 



LONESOME MILE 21 

owner an offer for the mine. Now I have been given to 
understand that the owner is a young lady, and you know 
liow one pictures a certain person to themselves before they 
have seen them. Well, that's my case. This girl, I believe, 
is called the Boss in these parts, and from that I deduct that 
she is a big, raw-boned, red-headed, freckled-faced, big- 
footed, western girl. I beg your pardon, but perhaps you 
know this Bdss? 

Clor. I do. 

Boyd. I hope I haven't said anything to offend. 

Clok. Not at all. 

Boyd. Tliank you. Do you know where I could see 
her about this time of day? 

Clor. Yes, indeed. 

BoY'D. Where, may I ask? 

Clor. You are looking at her now. 

Boyd. What? 

Clor. I'm the Boss of Lonesome Mile. 

Boyd. [Confused.] Eeally, really, I-I-I-I beg, I beg 
your pardon. I thought, I thought 

Clor. [Amused at his confusion.] No; you mean you 
didn't think. 

Boyd. Yes ! Yes ! I didn't think ! That's it ! Yes, 
Exactly ! [^sitZe.] , I wish this floor would open so I 
could fall into the cellar. [To Clor.] Could you tell me 
where I could find the owner of this place? 

Clor. Yes, indeed. 

Boyd. Where ? 

Clor. I am the owner. 

Boyd. 'V\Tiat? [Aside] I've put my foot in it again. 

Clor. Don't you think that we could get on much better 
if you weren't quite so nervous ? 

Boyd. You mean that you are not angry with me ? 

Clor. Why, of course not ! 

Boyd. Say, that's awful good of you ; on the level, it is. 
[Draws up a chair and sits beside her.] Now in regard to 
this mine of yours 

Clor. Oh, we can't talk about that to-night. 

Boyd. It's so late ! 

Clor. It's late for us out here. Besides, I couldn't talk 
business with you until to-morrow, because I don't really 



22 LONESOME MILE 

come into possession of the claim until then, you know. 
[Rises and crosses to d. l.] 

Boyd. [Laughing.} I suppose I shall have to wait 
then, won't I? 

Clor. I suppose you will. Are you stopping here ? 

Boyd. Yes. The other lady showed me a room. 

Clor. Did she give you a key to that door ? [Points K.] 

Boyd. Yes, thank you. 

Clor. Because I lock up every night, you know. 

Boyd. Do you, though ? 

Clor. Oh, yes ; because there are some rough characters 
in town sometimes. Good night ! 

Boyd. Good night ! And I again want to ask your par- 
don for being a fool. You are really not angry with me, 
are you? 

Clor. Not at all. Good night ! 

Boyd. Good night ! 

Clor. Good night ! [Exit d. l.] 

Boyd. [Looks after Clor for a moment as if in deep 
thought. He tvall's to door n., turns, and again looks 
toward d. l. Looks again in the direction of d. l. Then, 
ivith a sigh of contentment, he exits D. R.] 

Clor. [Enters d. l. She takes the lamp from the table, 
locks the D. 'R., and is about to exit d. l., when she pauses 
for a moment as she looks about the room.} Oh, yes, the 
window ! [She goes totvard the window ivith the intention 
of closing same, when Sam appears outside.} 

Sam. Good evenin', Boss. 

Clor. More like good night, isn't it? 

Sam. Goin'^ter bed so soon? 

Clor. I must, you know. I have to get up at five to 
have breakfast ready. 

Sam. Yes, and to-morrow's your birthday too, ain't it? 

Clor. Yes, and I shall be very old. Just think, twenty- 
one years ! 

Sam. That's the time most gals have been married and 
settled down. 

Clor. Oh, I'm never going to marry. 

Sam. That's what they all say. 

Clor. I mean it. 



LONESOME MILE 2^ 

Sam. By the way, to-morrow's the day when you have 
full right ter sell the Boss of Lonesome Mile Claim, 
ain't it ? 

Clor. Yes. 

Sam. Eemember, Ah'm offerin' yo' all ten thousand 
fer that claim. Let's settle it now, what do you say ? 

Clor. I couldn't. I must hear what Mr. Jackson, of 
Denver, will offer first. 

Sam. And if he offers more'n ten thousand, you'll take 
his offer. Ah suppose. 

Clor. Why, of course ! That would be business, 
wouldn't it? 

Sam. But you never can tell about these city sharps. 
Most of 'em ain't honest, you know. But in my case, Ah'm 
right square. You know that. 

Clor. Of course. 

Sam. Then why not accept my offer right now, eh? 

Clor. I want to wait until I hear some other offers 
first. 

Sam. [As if in deep tliouglit.'] Boss, thar's somethin' 
Ah've been a wantin' ter tell you fer a long, long time. 

Clor. Yes. 

Sam. You know Ah got money, don't you ? 

Clor. Certainly. 

Sam. Then listen here. Ah've allers admired you a 
heap. For these past few days Ah've been a lookin' at you 
and thinkin' it all over in my mind. When Ah want a 
thing real bad Ah usually get's it, and Ah've made up ma 
mind that Ah want you. 

Clor. You mean that ? Ah, no ! [She attempts to 
leave the window, hut he gets her hand in his and draws 
her to him.'] 

Sam. Listen ! Ah want you ter hear me out. Ah love 
yer, and Ah've got money. Ain't that enough ? 

Clor. No, it is not. Please let me go, 

Sam. What more then do you want. 

Clor. In the first place, I w^ould have to love you, and, 
in the second place, I would have to respect you. The 
former I could never do, and the latter, also, has been for- 
feited by your present conduct. 



24 LONESOME MILE 

Sam. Them's pretty words; but words don't go far 
with me. After we was married, you'd come ter love me. 

Clor. Please let me go? 

Sam. I want yer answer in plain English. 

Clor. Then, No ! 

Sam. That's final, is it? 

Clor. It is. 

Sam. Your bound ter do me out of the Lonesome Mile 
Claim, no matter how I go after 

Clor. Ah ! [She breaks away from him.^ Then it's 
the claim you want, and not me ? 

Sam. I-I 

Clor. Now, I understand. 

Sam. Wal, since you do, we'll let it go at that. 

Clor. Then understand this, you will never buy the 
Lonesome Mile while I hold it. 

Sam. Ah might buy your brother's share. 

Clor. You can't until he is of age. 

Sam. You can figure that any way you want to, but 
you listen ter me. Ah told you that when Ah want a thing. 
Ah usually get it. Now, Ah want the Lonesome Mile Claim, 
and Ah mean ter get it. You'll come crawlin' ter me yet. 
Savvy. Good night. [Exit R.] 

[Clor. looks after li'im for a moment. She then closes the 

ivindoiv and exits d. l., carrying the lamp. Lights 

down. The loch is heard to turn in d. r., and 

Eake enters. His hands are shoved in his 

trousers pockets and he sulks like the 

cub that he is. He does not lock 

the door after him. He sits 

in chair L.] 

Eake. Broke again. Gee, if I only had another hun- 
dred Ah could have busted the bank. Ah wonder if Clo 
is in yet. Naw, she wouldn't let me have nuthin'. Sam 
said that she got a century changed ter day. Maybe — [He 
looks about.'] Ah could put it back as soon as I won out. 
She must keep it somewheres. [He tiptoes off D. He 
fdttirns- almost immediately. He puts the gold pieces in 
Ki^ pocket.] She was sound asleep. [He starts toward 
D. R. Clor. enters d. l. She speaks very quietly. At the 



LONESOME MILE 25 

sound of her voice, Eake starts, wheels about, and faces 
her.] 

Clor. Eake ! 

Rake. Well, what do you want? 

Clor. I want those three gold pieces that you took from 
the bureau. 

Eake. I don't know nuthin' about any gold pieces. 

Clor. I saw you come in the room and take them, Eake. 

Eake. That's a lie ! 

Clor. Now I want you to give them to me, Eake. IVe 
got to pay a big bill in the morning. 

Eake. Aw, you've always got big bills ter pay. 

Clor. I know that, Eake, but I can't help it. 

Eake. The wdiole trouble is, you treat me like All was 
a kid, and I won't stand f er any more of that, do you hear ? 
Ah ain't a boy. Ah'm a man. 

Clor. Then show me that you are by giving me back 
that money. 

Eake. No, Ah w^on't. The money is as much mine as 
it's yourn. 

Clor. I w^as the one who earned it, Eake. 

Eake. How do Ah know that? ]\Iaybe yer sold our 
claim and got it that way. 

Clor. [Pained.] Eake ! 

Eake. Besides, Ah got bills that Ah've got ter pay 
myself. 

Clor. Whom do you owe money to? 

Eake. Ter Sam Brabcon, if yer want ter know. 

Clor. Eake ! How much ? Tell me how much ? 

Eake. About three hundred dollars. 

Clor. Eake, how could 3'ou? How could you? 

Eake. Ah allers told you that Ah needed money. Now 
maybe you'll believe it. 

Clor. But I didn't have the money to give you, Eake. 
And to think that you would borrow the money from 
Brabcon ! He, above all men ! 

Eake. He ain't no different from the others, is he ? 

Clor. He proposed marriage to me not ten minutes ago. 

Eake. And yer goin' ter have him? 

Clor. No. Nor will I accept his offer for the Lone- 
some Mile. 



26 LONESOME MILE 

Eake. Why didn't yer? You don't know what you^re 
doin', Ah tell yer. [Starts for D. R.] 

Clor. Wait a minute. Where are you going? 

Eake. Ah'm goin' ter try and run this money up ter 
tliree figures. Ah've got ter get two hundred ter night. 

Clor. You didn't sign any papers or anything like that, 
did you, Eake ? Tell me that you didn't. 

Eake. Yes, Ah did, too. 

Clor. Oh! AVhat was it? 

Eake. I won't tell you, and Ah won't stand ter be lec- 
tured. Ah'm a man, and Ah can take care of myself. [He 
starts for D. R. Clor. takes him gently hy the shoulder and 
tail's to him lihe a hr other and a friend.'] 

Clor. Eake, listen! Maybe I have been wrong, but 
listen. I'm the only mother you ever knew; I'm the only 
sister you have, and maybe you don't believe it, but I am 
your one true pal and friend. If you have done anything 
wrong, Eake, be on the square with me and let me know 
what it is ; let's stand and fight it out together. Come on, 
be a good fellow, Eake, and let me in on the right side. 

Eake. That kind of talk makes me sick. There you 
go again, treating me like Ah was a kid. Ah'm goin' ter 
get out of here. [He attempts to leave, hut she restrains 
him. Boyd, unohserved, enters d. r.] 

Clor. Eake, whatever else you do, don't go to the 
Crystal and gamble away what little money we have. 

Eake. Let me go, Ah tell yer. 

Clor. No I won't, Eake. 

Eake. Let me go or Ah'll hurt yer. 

Clor. I won't let you go unless you give me that money. 

Eake. You will. Ah tell yer! 

Clor. No, I won't! 

Eake. You will or Ah'll 

[He raises his hand as if he tvotdd stril-e her. Boyd 

catches hold of his hand and sivings him around 

to the R.] 

Boyd. [To Eake.] You durned little fool! What 
are you trying to do? 

CUETAIN 



LONESOME MILE 27 



ACT II. 

Scene: The same as Act I. 

[KiLLEM is discovered ivasliing the dishes at table l. Boyd 

is reading the paper down r. At rise Crusty and 

Lem go by the windoiv which is open.^ 

Crusty, Mornin', folks. 

KiLLEM. Mornin'. 

Boyd. Good morning. 

Lem. Watcher doin', Boggs? 

KiLLEM. Ah'm shoin' a horse, can't yer see ? 

Lem. If that's- the case, sheriff, we'd better be movin'. 

KiLLEM. If Ah was you Ah would, Jimson. 

Lem. What do yer mean by that? 

KiLLEM. Nothin', only it ain't very healthy fer folks 
like you ter be in the same vercinity with me. 

Lem. Is that so? 

KiLLEM. Yas, that's jest so, and Ah didn't stutter when 
Ah said it. 

Lem. Ah don't know what yer gasin' about, but Ah 
suppose it's all right. Come along, sheriff. 

[Exit L., followed by sheriff.] 

KiLLEM. [To Boyd.] That feller and me is comin' 
together one o' these days and when we do one o' us is goin' 
ter get hurt. 

Mrs. T. [Enters l.] Is them dishes done, Killem? 

KiLLEM. They be, ma love, they be. [Gives her a 
rough, sly hug.] 

Mrs. T. Killem, fer goodness sake. Don't yer see 
thar's a stranger present? 

KiLLEM. 0' course Ah do. He ain't so small but what 
Ah can get a glimpse o' him without a telescope. 

Boyd. Don't mind me. 

Killem. I won't. 

Mrs. T. Killem! 

Killem. Stranger, Ah like you. 

Boyd. Thank you. 



28 LONESOME MILE 

KiLLEM. Can you keep a secret? 

Boyd. I have that reputation. 

KiLLEM. Good. Now, listen ter me. This lady and 
me is goin' ter get hitched. 

Boyd. I congratulate you both. When is the happy 
event to take place? 

IviLLEM. Jest as soon as Matilda here can make up 
her mind whether she wants ter be spliced in her white 
dress or her Sunday black alapaca. 

Mrs. T. Now, which do you think would be the proper 
one? 

Boyd. Why, white for a bride by all means. 

Mrs. T. There now, Boggs, Ah told you so. Now you 
hear it fer yourself. Come along and get a hammer and 
some nails. I want you ter fix that bed in the front up- 
stairs room. \^Exit l.] 

KiLLEM. Say, Ah wanted her ter get married in white 
all the time, but she bein' a woman Ah knew she would 
do jest the opposite ter what Ah wanted, so Ah said that 
Ah preferred her getting spliced in her black alapaca, which 
Ah hate wors'n pizon. Say, stranger, Ah'm crazy like that 
fish they call the owl, ain't I? Ah don't know a thing 
about women! [Winks and exits d. l.] 

Eake. [Enters d. r.] 

Boyd. Good morning. 

Eake. [In a surly manner.'] Good morning. 
[He lays a revolver that lie is carrying on the cupboard.] 

Boyd. Been out hunting? 

Eake. No. [Exit d. l.] 

Boyd. That cub needs some one to take him out in 
the back yard and give him a good trouncing. 

Clor. [Enters d. l.] Good morning. 

Boyd. Good morning. 

Clor. I hope you rested well. 

Boyd. I did ; very well, thank you. Though I dreamed 
a good bit. 

Clor. Dreamed ? 

Boyd. Yes. And that is out of the i^sual for me. 

Clor. They were good dreams? 

BoY'D. The best and the most beautiful I have ever 
known. 



LONESOME MILE 29 

Clor. Then that's a good sign. You know the Indians 
say that the first dream on a new blanket will come true, 
and I suppose the same applies to a strange bed, don't you 
think? 

Boyd. I hope so, because if the dreams I had come 
true I will be the happiest man in the world. 

Clor. You dreamed of great wealth, then? 

Boyd. The greatest wealth on earth, not in gold and 
silver, but in the form of a young, pure and beautiful girl. 

Clor. Isn't it strange that I also should dream last 
night, and for the first time in many weeks, too. 

Boyd. What did you dream about ? 

Clor. About ^She looks into his eyes.] 

Boyd. [Eagerly.] Yes. 

Clor. About 

Boyd. Yes. 

Clor. About many things. 

Boyd. [Disappointed.] Pshaw ! 

Clor. What's the matter? 
^ Boyd. Nothing, only I wish that I could find some good 
kind friend who would kick some sense into me. Please 
go on with the dream. 

Clor. I wish I could, but I can't. 

Boyd. That's the worst of dreams. They are so unsat- 
isfactory. Now, in my case I don't even know this dream 
girl's name. By the way, I beg your pardon, but what is 
your name? 

Clor. Day— Clorinda Day. 

Boyd. That's a pretty name. Mine's Boyd. 

Clor. Mr. Boyd. 

Boyd. No ; Boyd is my first name. 

Clor. But what is your last name? 

Boyd. I won't tell you that. 

Clor. But why not? 

Boyd. Because I always want you to call me Boyd. 

Clor. That isn't fair. Why should you want me to 
call you Boyd? 

Boyd. Because. 

Clor. Because why? 

Boyd. Because I love 3^ou? 

Clor. [Startled.] You 



30 LONESOME MILE 

Boyd. Because I love you better than anything else on 
earth. 

Clor. You love me? 

Boyd. I never thought I could love until I saw you ; all 
my life has been spent in lolling away the precious hours, 
always seeking some new enjoyment or pleasure. Life for 
me has hardly been worth while until I came here and now 
I know it will not be worth living at all unless I can live 
it with you. 

Clor. I— I 

Boyd. Don't answer me now ; wait, and when you think 
that there is a chance of my being worthy of you, give me 
your answer then. If it is yes, I shall be the happiest man 
on earth, and if it is no, I shall go away from here, a better 
man for having known you. 

Crusty. \ Enters d. r.] Hey, mister, thar's a telegram 
at the station fer you. 

Boyd. Thank you, I will go over and get it. 

[Crusty exits d. r. Boyd crosses over to d. r. Turns to 

Clor.] 

You will think it over? 
[Clor. nods her head in the affirmative. Boyd exits d. e. 

Clor. runs over to the door and looks out after /itm.] 

Clor. He loves me ! He said he loved me ! 

[She starts back from the door. Sam enters d. r.] 

Sam. Mornin'. 

Clor. Good morning. [Exits d. l.] 

Sam. Still up in the air, eh? 

[Lem appears at window.] 

Lem. I jest see that Denver tenderfoot a hiken ter the 
telegraph office. Thar's somethin' doin'. 

Sam. Then we got ter make our strong play right now. 
Lay outside the door, listen, and at the right minute come 
in. Savvy ? 

Lem. Ah^m on. [Exit R.] 

[Eake etiters d. l,] 
Sam. Oh, so yer home, are yer? 
Eake. Yes; did you want ter see me? 
Sam. Yes. There's the devil ter pay, sonnie ! 



LONESOME MILE 31 

Eake. What is it? 

Sam. Lem found the cheque yo' all forged. 

Eake. [With fear gradually taking hold of him.] But 
he won't do nothin' ter me, will he? You'll see ter that, 
Sam; you said yer would if anythin' should happen. 

Sam. Ah don't see how Ah can help much ; things have 
turned out a whole different than Ah thought fer. 

Eake. Tell me how it happened and — and what did 
Lem say ? 

Sam. He found the cheque on the floor where Ah 
dropped it. He won't listen ter no reason, and he does 
no thin' but talk of jails and the like er that. 

Eake. Good Heavens ! You must help me, Sam. Ah 
can't go ter jail ; it's not myself that Ah'm thinkin' of ; it's 
Clo — it'd kill her if that should happen. 

Sam. Ah tell Lem that, but he says yer should have 
thought o' that afore yer signed the cheque. Yer know 
Lem is a great man fer honesty. 

Eake. But Ah can pay the money some time if Ah 
only have half a chance. 

Sam. Lem says a forgery is a forgery and all the money 
in the world won't make no difference if he wants ter press 
the charge. 

Lem. [Filters d. r. He acts the injured and stern 
party.] So thar you are ? Young man, you're goin' ter jail. 

Eake. Please, Lem, give me a chance. Ah swear Ah'll 
make good. 

Lem. Ah say, you go ter jail. 

Eake. For God's sake, don't talk so loud. Ah don't 
want ma sister to know this. 

Lem. Ah don't see how she's goin' ter help it, when in 
a few minutes the hull town will know yer behind the bars. 

Eake. Lem, Ah've allers been a friend o' yourn, ain't I ? 

Sam. [WinHng at Lem aside.]. Can't yer give the boy 
another chance? 

Lem. You keep quiet or Ah'll have you arrested as ac- 
cessory to the fact. 

Sam. Ain't thar nothin' the boy can do ter make good ? 

Lem. No, thar ain't. He goes ter jail. 

Sam, Think, now, ain't thar some little thing? 



32 LONESOME MILE 

Clor. {Enter d. l.] Why, Eake — what — what's the 
matter ? 

Lem. Forgery's the matter and that hoy goes ter jaiL 

Eake. Ah didn't mean ter do it, Clo. Ah didn't mean 
ter do it. {Drops in a chair with his head in his arms on 
tahle L.] 

Clor. What has he done ? 

Lem. He forged my name to a cheque fer two hundred 
dollars. 

Clor. Well, I'll pay it hack to you. 

Lem. That ain't the idea. Ah want ter see justice done. 

Clor. You don't mean to say that you would see this 
boy go to jail. 

Lem. Why not ? He broke the law, didn't he ? 

Clor. But he's only a boy. 

Lem. That don't make no diilerence. 

Clor. Listen, both of you! I'm the only mother that 
boy ever knew ; it is not his sister who pleads with you now, 
but his mother; I'll work and pay you back every cent of 
the money he owes. Think of your own mothers and your 
own boyhood and your own sisters if you have any, and let 
him go; please let him go just this once. 

• Lem. Ah'm very sorry, but ma good name has been 
dirtied and all the money in the world won't make it clean 
in this community ; that is. Ah should say it will take a hull 
lot more money than this two hundred ter make this matter 
straight with me. 

Clor. How much more ? Tell me. 

Lem. Ah'll make 3^ou what Ah call a fair proposition. 
You sell me the Lonesome Mile Claim fer ten thousand and 
Ah'll destroy the cheque. If yer don't accept — wall, you 
know the answer. 

Clor. [To Sam.} This is some of your work. 

Sam. Me? 

Clor. Yes, you. You're bound to get the Lonesome 
Mile and I'm bound you shan't have it. Between the two 
of you, you have got this boy in your power and you are 
trying to force me, through him, to give up what I have 
worked years to hold. I have always had to fight a hard 
battle to live in this world, and I can now thank the Lord 
that he has allowed me to fight for an existence because it 



LONESOME MILE 33 

has taught me how to fight. Do you hear? It has taught 
me how to fight. Now, you can go, both of you. 

Sam. You know what Ah told you last night? You'll 
come crawlin' to me yet. 

Eake. [Starts to his feet.'] You 

Clor. [Puts out her arm and holds him hacTc. To Lem 
and Sam.] Go ! 

. Lem. Ah'll give you jest fifteen minutes ter change yer 
mind. [To Eake.] Don't you try ter get away, 'cause yer 
bein' watched. Come on, Sam. 

[Sam and Lem exit d. r. Sam leaves his hat behind.] 

Clor. [To Eake^ in a motherly tone.] You should 
have told me, Eake. You weren't square with me, you see. 

Eake. Clo, Clo, what are we going to do? 

Clor. Do? Why, you and me are going to stand up 
and fight it out together. 

Eake. It ain't myself that Ah'm thinkin' about,Clo, 
it's you. Ah don't mind goin' ter jail, but you, Clo, Ah 
know, will suffer mor'n Ah will. Ah'd be only gettin' what's 
comin' ter me, but you, Clo, you — Ah couldn't stand ter 
have you suffer, Clo; fer the first time in ma life Ah can 
see you as you are and Ah jest can't stand it. 

Clor. Eake ! [He goes into her arms.] Oh, Eake, 
that's what I wanted you to say. It shows that you do love 
me, Eake, and with that on our side we will make them all 
take to the hills. 

Eake. What'll we do ? 

Clor. You go right up to my room and wait for me 
there. 

Eake. Where are you going? 

Clor. I'm going to hunt up some good advice. 

Eake. You'll be back in a little while ? 

Clor. Of course I will. 

Eake. Hurry, won't you ? 'Cause Kh — jest hurry back, 
won't you, Clo? 

Clor. Of course I will. 
[Eake exits d. l. Clor. takes her bonnet down from a peg 

and, tying the strings under her neck, she exits D. R.] 

[Ed. Thayer is seen to look in at the window. He looks 

about the room as if he expected to see some one 

and then walks off r.] 



34 LONESOME MILE 

[Sam enters d. r.] 

Sam. Ah wonder where Ah left that lid o' mine. [Sees 
his hat where he left it.] Here she be. [Picks it up. He 
iees the gun on the cupboard.] Hello ! some one's left their 
shootin' iron. [Picks up the gun and examines it a^id 
smells it.] . Some one's jest used it. Yes, thar's one cart- 
ridge been fired. That fool kid might get it inter his head 
ter start some fire works, so Ah reckon Ah'll jest put this 
whar she'll be safe. [Puts the gun in his pocket. Ed. 
enters d. r. Sam looks up, sees him, and starts hack.] 
You! 

Ed. Ah see you ain't fergot me. 

Sam. Ah thought that you was 

Ed. In jail or dead. Ah suppose. Wal, Ah ain't yer see. 

Sam. What are you doin' here ? 

Ed. That's a long story. 

Sam. Ah'm glad ter see 

Ed. Yer glad ter see me here, ain't yer? 

Sam. Yes, Ah am. 

Ed. You're a liar, Brabcon ! You allers was a liar. 

Sam. If you're goin' ter talk like that, Ah'm goin'. 

Ed. You stay where you are. 

Sam. Ah tell yer 

Ed. If yer know what's good fer yer health, yer'll stay 
where yer are. [Sam makes a movement toward his hip. 
Ed. draivs a gun ahead of hiju.] Don't try that, Brabcon, 
or they'll carry you out o' here feet furst. Savvy? 

Sam. What do you want of me? 

Ed. Thar's jest one thing Ah want from you, and thar's 
a hundred that neither you or any one else can give me 
back. Did you get what Ah said ? Thar's a hundred things 
that Ah've been robbed of, that can never come back ter 
me, not in this world they can't. 

Sam. Where did you come from ? 

Ed. From jail. Yer see they took off five years fer good 
behavior. 

Sam. Well, what do yer want? 

Ed. You know, Brabcon, Ah've got a perfect right ter 
kill you. [Sam reaches for his hip.] Keep your hand 
away from that gun. 



LONESOME MILE 35 

Sam. Ah'd like ter know what Ah've ever done ter you. 

Ed. Would yer? Then Ah'll tell yer. You and me was 
partners once and Ah thought you ma one and only friend. 
We went ter Mexico prospectin' and Ah went down with 
the fever. You took all the dust we dug from them hills 
and left me thar ter die. You told ma wife when you 
came north that Ah was dead. Yer married her and then 
deserted her. Ah guess Ah wasn't ready ter die 'cause 
Ah pulled through and came north just in time ter have 
my wife die in my arms. You know what Ah did then : 
Ah went ter the bad right; Ah robbed, drank and did 
everything else that was rotten, and then wound up in 
Jail. Then you came again with more o' your crooked 
work. You knew when Ah came out that Ah would some 
day find yo all, so yer entered charges against me and 
had me sent up fer ten years fer a crime that Ah never 
committed, and — well, here Ah am. 

Sam. And now? 

Ed. And now Ah'm jest figurin' whether Ah should 
kill you and end the hull shootin' match that-a-way. 

Sam. You wouldn't dare. 

Ed. Wouldn't Ah? Huh. You know me better than 
that, Brabcon. 

Sam. Ah didn't go fer ter rile yer any, Ed. Ah jest 
meant that yer wouldn't kill me, yer wouldn't have the 
heart, that's what Ah meant. 

Ed. Why shouldn't Ah kill yer? Tell me that, why 
shouldn't All? 

Sam. 'Cause — 'cause 

Ed. 'Cause yer ain't worth killin'. No, Ah won't kill 
yer, but this Ah will do. Ah'm goin' ter tell ma story ter 
every man in this town, and if they are men they'll ride 
yer out. Ah'm a goin' ter foller yer, no matter where yer 
go and have yer driven out again. Ah'm goin' ter square 
ma account with yo all and see if Ah can't make yer suffer, 
same as you done with me. That's all, Brabcon, good day. 

[He starts for door R. Sam draws his gun and pulls the 
trigger. The gun misfires. At the click of the ham- 
mer Ed. wheels about, draws his oiun gun and fires 
at Sam. Sam falls. Ed. starts to exit d. r. 



36 LONESOME MILE 

He darts had: into the room and exits 
through the ivindoiv.] 

Eake, [Enters d. l.] Sam ! 
Crusty. [Enters d. r.] What's goin' on here ? 
Eake. Ah don't know. Ah just came in. 
Crusty. [Examiiies Sam.] Good Lord, he's been shot ! 
He's almost done for. 

[KiLLEM and Mrs. T. enter d. l.] 

KiLLEM. What is it, Crusty? 

Crusty. Brahcon's been murdered. 

KiLLEM. [Examines Sam.] He ain't dead yet. 

Crusty. See if you can get him over to Dr. Knights; 
the doc's sick abed and could never get over here. 

KiLLEM. [Helps Sa]\i to his feet a7id almost drags him, 
off D. R.] 

Eake. Ah think Ah'd better give Killem a hand. 

Crusty. You stay where you are. [Piclas up the re- 
volver Sam dropped.'] Ah believe Ah'm right when Ah 
say that this is your gun. 

Eake. Sure, it is. 

Crusty. [Examines the gun.~\ One shot has been fired 
out'n this gun. Ah guess Ah've got to take you up, Eake. 

[Clor. and Boyd enter d. r.] 

Clor. Eake, Crusty, what is the matter? 

Crusty. Ah've got to take your brother up fer firen on 
Brabcon with intent ter kill. 

Killem. [Rushes in d. r.] Crusty, Brabcon's dead! 

All. Dead ! 

Crusty. Eake Day, Ah arrest you fer the murder of 
Sam Brabcon. 

Clor. [Shielding Eake.] Xo ! No! 

Eake. N^o, Crusty, Ah didn't do it. [Lem enters D. R.] 
What reason would Ah have fer killin' him. 

Crusty. Ah don't know nothin' about that. 

Lem. But Ah do, and Ah'll be ready in court ter tell the 
reason he had fer killin' him. [Looks at Clor.] He killed 
Sam to get a certain paper that Sam had and that I know 
all about. 

Crusty. Come along, Eake. 



LONESOME MILE 37 

Eake. All fired the shot out o' that gun this morning 
jest fer fun. 

Crusty. Who saw you fire it? 

Eake. Why — wliy — no one, Ah guess. 

Crusty. Thar you are. Come along. 

Clor. Oh, Eake ! Eake ! 

Eake. Ah didn't do it, Clo, honest. Ah didn't ! 

Clor. I believe you, Eake ! 

Crusty. If you didn't do it, you ain't got nothin' to 
fear. 

Eake. Why, Ah was up stairs when Ah heard the shot. 
So was Killem and Mrs. T. They was in the front room 
a hammerin' some nails. 

Crusty. Did you see them ? 

Eake. No. 

Crusty. Did they see you ? 

Eake. No. 

Crusty. That's enough. Come on. 

Clor. No, no. Crusty, let him stay here; I'll be re- 
sponsible for him. 

Crusty. It can't be done, Boss; it ain't the law, you 
know that. 

Boyd. How much bail will they want for this boy? 

Crusty. Ah don't know — that's up ter the judge. But 
yer can bet yer boots the bail will be big, 'cause the evidence 
is strong agin him. 

Boyd. If the bail is this side of five hundred thousand 
dollars cash, put me down as the bondsman. 

Crusty. Do you mean ter say that you will go his bail 
fer five hundred thousand dollars? 

Boyd. Those are my words, exactly. 

Crusty. Why, the hull case will be tried and disposed 
of afore night. We don't dilly dally out here. Come on, 
Boy. [He crosses to d. r.] 

Lem. Ah'll see you in the court house, sheriff. [Exit 

D. R.] 

Killem. Mrs. T., we'd better keep our eyes on that Lem. 
Mrs. T. Eight you are. 

[They both exit d. r.] 

Crusty. Eeady, Eake? 



38 LONESOME MILE 

Eake. In a minute. Don't cry, Clo, Ah'll come back 
again. 

Clor. I can't help it, Eake. Wait a minute ; I'm going 
with you. 

Eake. No; Ah want you ter stay here. If Ah need 
you, Ah'll send fer you. 

Boyd. [To Clor.] I'll go with him and see him 
through. 

Eake. No; you stay here with her, mister, please do. 
Ah ain't never been much of a man 'though Ah talked a 
hull lot about it. Now let me have this chance ter make 
good; let me stand up and fight this thing alone. Ah 
didn't do it! Ah'm innercent, and, as Clo has often told 
me, if yer right, yer can't go wTong. 

Clor. [Drops in a chair beside of table sobbing.'] 

Eake. [Holds out his hand to Boyd and speaks aside 
to him alone. Crusty is over at d. r.J If Ah find 
that Ah'm weakening Ah'll send for you. [Aloud.] Ah'm 
ready, sheriff. 

[Crusty exits d. r. followed by Eake.] 

Clor. [ Rushes over to d. r. and rests her head in her 
right arm against the door jamb, her left hand is at her 
side.] Eake, Eake, my poor brother. 

[Boyd comes down and gently touches her on the arm, his 

hand slips into her's, she turns and goes into his arms 

burying her face in his breast. He with his 

arm around her, leads her to D. L.] 

Clor. My brother, I must go to him. 

Boyd. I will go to him. You stay here. 

Clor. No, please let me go. 

Boyd. For my sake and his stay here. It is for the best. 

Clor. You will help him. 

Boyd, As if he was my own brother. 
[Clor ivith boived head exits d. l. Boyd starts to d. r. 

Mrs. T. enters d. r.] 

Mrs. T. Are you going over to the trial? 

Boyd. You don't mean to say they will try the boy now. 

Mrs. T. That's it exactly. Out in this country they 



LONESOME MILE 39 

don't stand on no ceremony. They act first and think 
arterwards. 

Boyd. But that's not the law of the country. 

Mrs. T. It's the law o' Lonesome Mile and that's all 
they go by here. If that boy is found guilty they'll— 

Boyd. They will what? 

Mrs. T. They'll hang him to the nearest tree. 

Boyd. And this is a ciyilized country. 

Mrs. T. No, this is Lonesome Mile. Whar's the gal. 

Boyd. Gone to her room. 

Mrs. T. Poor child, poor child ! [Crosses to d. l., turns^ 
Look here, mister. Deep down in your heart, do you l>e- 
heye this boy did this deed ? 

Boyd. I belieye that he is as innocent as you and I. 

Mrs. T. Them's my sentiments, and I wish to the 
Lord that Ah had some way o' proyin' 'em. lExit d. l.] 

Ed. [Enters d. r.] Howdy, stranger. 

Boyd. Good morning. 

Ed. What's goin' on oyer at the court house? I see a 
gatheiin' oyer thar. 

Boyd. They are trying an innocent boy for murder. 

Ed. How do you know he's innocent? 

Boyd. How do I know you are? 

Ed. '[Starts.'] Are you his law3'er? 

Boyd. Xo ; I'm his friend. 

Ed. Friend, huh ? There ain't no sech animal, take it 
from me. 

Boyd. If money, justice and Ijrains can saye this bov, 
I'll do it. ^' 

Ed. If, as you say, the boy is innocent they're ain't 
nothin' to fear; if he's guilty let him take his medicine. 
As fer me, I say let him take his medicine innocent or 
guilty. I got mine in this world and I hate the world 
and eyerybody in it fer what Ah'ye gone through. If Ah 
saw my own brother with a'rope around his neck Ah don't 
thmk I would hurry much ter saye him if Ah could. 

Boyd. [Lools at Ed. for a moment and then exits d. r. 
Ed. goes up to icindow. Mrs. T. enters d. l., followed hv 
Clor.] ^ 

Clor. Please hurry back and let me know what they 
are doing. -' 



40 LONESOME MILE 

Mes. T. Ah'll be back in no time, never fear. [Exit 
D. R.] 

Ed. [Comes down stage.] Mornin', Miss. 

Clor. Good morning. 

Ed. Can you tell me where I can find the boss of this 
place ? 

Clor. I am. 

Ed. Is that so ? Can Ah put up here for a day or two. 

Clor. Yes, sir. [Loolcs anxiously off d. r.] 

Ed. You seem ter be in trouble. 

Clor. You don't know how much. I feel as if I couldn't 
stand it a minute longer. 

Ed. That's the way we all feel when trouble first hits 
us, but we only need a little more and a little more ter 
really show us how much we can stand without fall in' under 
with the weight of it. Ah know what Ah'm talkin' about; 
Ah've been through the mill. 

Clor. [Notices ED^s hand, which is cut and bleeding 
a little.] Your hand, you are hurt I 

Ed. It ain't nothin'. Ah was cuttin' a hole in my 
belt when the knife slipped. 

Clor. I'll get you some water and a clean cloth. [Exit 

D. R.] 

Ed. Ah wonder if — Don't be a fool ! don't be a fool ! 
[Sits at table R. Clor. enters d. l. with a basin of water, 
a towel and a piece of linen.] 

Clor. Now put your hand in here and let me bathe it. 

Ed. Xaw, don't trouble yerself. 

Clor. It's no trouble; really it isn't. [Ed. rolls up his 
sleeve and puts his hand in basin. Clor. proceeds to bathe 
and Imndage his wound.] 

Ed. You use fancy English. You ain't lived out here 
long, eh ? 

Clor. Almost all my life, though I did have some educa- 
tion in Denver. 

Ed. Say, do you know you're the first person who has 
done a kind act fer me in a great many years ? 

Clor. I'm glad I am. 

Ed. That trouble you spoke of a while back can't be too 
terrible bad or you w^ouldn't find time ter waste on me 
Ah'm thinkin'. 



LONESOME MILE 41 

Clor. [Sadly.] Sorrow and trouble makes us all the 
more tliou<^htful. 

Ed. Ali'in sorry fer liavin' reminded you of it. Sup- 
pose you tell me what it is ; maybe Ah can help you. 

Clor. They're trying my brother for murder. 

Ed. That case that's on now? 

Clor. Yes. 

Ed. Why ain't you over there with him? 

Clor. He is afraid that if he sees me there it will break 
him all up and he wants to be a man and fight this through, 
lie's innocent and they can't take him from me. C^in they? 
If he's innocent? Though if I thought my being beside 
him would help him, I'd be there or do anything else that 
is possible in this world. 

Ed. AVhat do they say he did? 

Clor. They say he shot and killed Sam Brabcon. 

Ed. What? 

Clor. What's the matter? [Ed. tahes up his hat and 
starts for D. R.] Where are you going? 

Ed. Ah'm goin' ter get out o' here afore Ah make a 
fool o' maself and tell somethin' Ah had better leave unsaid. 
Ah'm goin' ter get out of this town without losin' another 
minute. [Exit d. r.] 

Clor. I wonder if he knows who killed Sam Brabcon. 
[LooJiS after Ed. for a moment and then tal'es the basin and 
exits D. L.] 

Lem. [Enters d. r.] Oh, Boss. Hello, Boss. 

Clor. [Enters d. l.] Well ? 

Lem. Ah jest come over ter tell you that Ah think the 
case is goin' against your brother. 

Clor. [Almost faints, hut recovers herself.'] I don't 
believe it. 

Lem. Believe it or not, jest as you see fit, but it's so. 
They have a clean case -against him. They ain't no power 
on earth that can save him except me. 

Clor. You ? And you will, Lem ? Ah, I know you will. 

Lem. On one condition. 

Clor. Anything, anything you ask. 

Lem. Ah want your word that you will sell the Lone- 
some Mile claim ter me. 



42 LONESOME MILE 

Clor. And if I refuse you that you would' see my 
brother hang? 

Lem. We all have to look out fer ourselves in this 
world. 

Clor. How do I know you will play fair with me? 

[Boyd appears at ivindoiD.'\ 

Lem. I was standin' outside of this house when Sam 
was shot^ and I saw the man who shot him. 

Clor. Listen Lem, that claim is all that I have in the 
world and I know you will 

Lem. They're ain't no use arguin'. Ah can see that 
Ah got ter be hard with you. I want your answer yes 
or no. If your brothers life ain't worth the Lonesome Mile 
claim it ain't worth nothin', so he can hang for all of me. 
l^Starts for d. r.] 

Clor. No, no, Lem. I'll do it. I'll do anything you 
ask. 

Lem. Now you're talkin'. Ah've got a paper all drawn 
up and ready over at my cabin. Ah'll get it and you 

Clor. No ! Stop ! 'No I won't do it. 

Lem. What ilo you mean ? 

Clor. It's a trick. My brother is innocent and God in 
Heaven will see justice done. 

Lem. Then you'll see him hang, eh? 

Clor. He will go free. 

Lem. Wait. Only wait. [Exit d. r. Boyd exits from 
heJiind ivindoiu.'] 

[Clor. raises her hands above her head and drops to her 
knees beside of chair R. as if in prayer. Crusty^ fol- 
lowed by Eake and Mrs. T. and Killem enter 
D. R. Clor. ju?nps to her feet.~\ 

Clor. Eake, Eake, they have set you free. 

Eake. No — I — They say I am guilty. 

Clor. [Stiin7ied.'\ You mean that — 

Eake. Ah've come ter say good bye, Clo. 

Clor. No, No, they wouldn't dare kill you, Eake. 
Crusty, Mrs. T., Killem, you know he's innocent; don't 
let them take him from me. 



LONESOME MILE 43 

Rake. Come, Clo. Don't make it harder for me. Let 
me say good bye and go to it like a man. 

Crusty. Fer all our sakes, Boss, get it over. The 
court says he's guilty, and Ah've got ter do my duty. 

Ed. [Enters d. r.] Then let the boy go. 

Crusty. What ? 

Ed. That gal there is the only person on earth who 
has done me a kindness, and Ah'm here ter pay it back. 
Ah tried ter run away from what Ah know was right, but 
Ah had ter come back again. Somethin' here [Taps his 
breast.] kept sayin' "Go back," "Go back," and now Ah'm 
here. 

Crusty. Who are you? 

Ed. Ah'm a stranger in town; ma name's Ed Thayer 
and Ah'm the man who killed Sam Brabcon. 

Crusty. You killed him? 

Ed. Ah did and Ah had good reasons to; but in this 
case Ah shot in self defense. 

Crusty. This boy's gun was found beside Brabcon 
with one shell discharged and one that misfired. 

Rake. Ah told them in the court house that Ah fired 
the gun early this morning. 

Ed. Brabcon drew his gun as Ah was goin' out the 
door, he pulled the trigger and the gun misfired. Then 
ter protect maself Ah shot him. 

Crusty. Did anyone see you shoot him? 

Boyd. [Enters dragging Lem by the coUar.l This man 
saw the whole affair. 

Crusty. How do you know that? 

Boyd. I stood outside of that window and heard him 
tell Miss Day so. He threatened to let her brother hang 
without telling all he knew unless she sold the Lonesome 
Mile claim to him. 

Crusty. Xow we're getting at the truth o' this matter 
and Ah thank Heaven we are. Lem, Ah got ter lock you 
up, and you [To Ed.] come along and tell your story to 
the judge. 

Ed. With the greatest of pleasure. [Clor. starts for- 
ward as if she would thanlc him.'] No, Ah don't want no 
thanks. Miss. Ah jest did what Ah thought was right, 
that's all. 



44 LONESOME MILE 

Crusty. Eake, Ah'll leave you with your sister until 
this thing is settled. [Takes Lem hy the arm.] Come on, 
Lem, time's money. Come on stranger. [Exits d. r. ivith 
Lem, followed hy Ed.] 

Ed. [.4^ D. R.] Mornin' folks. 

Mrs. T. Killem. 

KiLLEM. Yes, my little bronco. 

Mrs. T. Lets us go over and see how our friend Lem 
looks behind the bars. 

KiLLEM. Ah was just about ter say the same thing. 
Come on. [Exit d. r. tvith Mrs. T. on his arm.] 

Clor. Rake don't you think you'd better lay down and 
rest? 

Rake. Ah think Ah better had. Ah'm all in. [Holds 
out his hand to Boyd.] Ah want ter thank you. 

Boyd. That's all right. 

Rake. And you, Clo, Ah ain't got words enough ter 
tell you how kind a sister and good a pal you are. [Kisses 
Clor. and exits d. l. Clor. lool-s after him.] 

Boyd. [After a pause.] Well? 

Clor. It's all so good and true I can hardly believe it, 

Boyd. Clorinda, I have come to a decision about your 
claim. 

Clor. Have you, what is it? 

Boyd. I'm going to stay right here with you and work 
the claim for you. 

Clor. But what will Mr. Jackson of Denver say? 

Boyd. I'm Mr. Jackson of Denver. 

Clor. Boyd. [He takes her in his arms.] 

CURTAIN. 



The Spinsters^ Convention 

(The Original 
Old Maids' Convention) 



Price, 25 cents 



An evening's entertainment which is always a sure hit and 
a money-maker. Has been given many hundred times by 
scnools, societies and churches, with the greatest success. An 
evening of refined fun. It requires from twelve to twenty 
ladies and two gentlemen, although ladies may take the two 
male parts. A raised platform with curtains at the back is 
all the stage requires, but a fully equipped opera stage may 
be utilized and to great advantage. 

Eidiculous old maid costumes, with all their frills and fur- 
belows, their cork-screw curls, mittens, work bags, bird cages, 
etc, are the proper costumes. Later on -in the program some 
pretty young women in modern evening dress are required. 
The latter should each be able to give a number of a mis- 
cellaneous program, that is, be able to sing, play some instru- 
ment, dance, whistle or recite well. 

This entertainment utilizes all sorts of talent, and gives 
each participant a good part. Large societies can give every 
member something to do. 

SYNOPSIS 

Gathering- of the Members of the Society — The Roll-Call — The 
Greeting Sons — Minutes of the last meeting — Report of The Treas- 
urer—Music: "Sack Waltz" — A paper on \T'oman's Rights — Song: 
"No One to Love, None to Caress." — Reading of "Marriage Statis- 
tics" — The Advent of the Mouse — Initiation of two Candidates into 
th3 Society — The Psalm of Marriage — Secretary's Report on Eligible 
Men — A Petition to Congress — Original Poem by Betsy Bobbett — 
Song: "Why Don't the Men Propose?" — Report of The Vigilance 
Committee— An Appeal to the Bachelors — Prof. Make-over — The 
Rem^odelscope. -Testimonials— The Transformation and a miscel- 
laneous program. 

Address Orders to 
THE DRAMATIC PUBLISHING COMPANY 

CHICAGO, ILUNOIS 



Capt^ Racket 

A Comedy in Three Acts 

By CHARLES TOWNSEND 



Price, 25 cents 



This play by Mr, Townsend is probably one of his most populai 
productions; it certainly is one of his best. It is full of action from 
start to finish. Comic situations rapidly follow one after another, 
and the act endings are especially strong and lively. Every char- 
acter is good and affords abundant opportunity for effective work. 
Can be played by tive men and three women, if desired. The 
same scene is used for all the acts, and it is an easy interior. A 
most excellent play for repertoire companies. No seeker for a 
good play can afford to ignore it. 

CHARACTERS 

CAPT. ROBERT RACKET, one of the National Guard. A lawyer 

when he has nothing else to do, and a liar all the time 

Comedy lead 

OBADIAH DAWSON, his uncle, from Japan, "where they makt 
■iQa," Comedy old man 

TIMOTHY TOLMAN, his friend, who married for money, and is 
sorry for it Juvenile man 

MR. DALROY, his father-in-law, jolly old cove Eccentric 

HOBSON, waiter from the "Cafe Gloriana," who adds to the 
confusion Utility 

CLARICE, the Captain's pretty v/ife, out for a lark, and up to 
"anything awful" Comedy lead 

MRS. TOLMAN, a lady with a temper, who finds her Timothy a 
vexation of spirit Old woman 

KAT Y, a mischievous maid Soubrette 

TOOTSY, the "Kid," Tim's olive branch Props. 

SYNOPSIS 

Act I. Place: Tim's country home on the Hudson near New 
Yofk. Time: A breezy morning in September. The Captain's 
fancy takes a flight and trouble begins. 

Act il. Place: the same. Time: the next morning. How one 
yarn requires another. "The ^greatest liar unhung." Now the 
trouble increases and the Captain prepares for war. 

Act III. Place: the same. Time: Evening of the same dajr^ 
More misery. A general muddle. "Dance or you'll die.* Cornerea 
at last. The Captain owns up. All serene. 

J'ime of playing: Two hours. 

Address Orders to 

THE DRAMATIC PUBLISHING COMPANY 

CHICAGO. ILLINOIS 



A Woman^s Honor 

A Drama in Four Acts 

By JOHN A. FRASER 
Author of "A Noble Outcast," "Santiago," "Modern Ananias," etft. 

Price, 25 cents 

Seven male, three female characters. Plays two hours. Foi 
Intense dramatic action, thrillin,^ climaxes, uproarious comedy an^ 
a story of absorbing romantic interest, actors, either professional 
or amateur, will find few plays to equal "A Woman's Honor." 
With careful rehearsals they will find a sure hit is made every time 
"Without difficulty. 

CAST OF CHARACTERS 

General Mark Lester. A Hero of the Cuban Ten Tears' War.. Lead 

Pedro Mendez. His half brother Heavy 

Dr. Garcia. Surgeon of the Madaline Straight 

Gilbert Hall, M. D. In love with Olive Juvenile 

Robert Glenn. A Wall Street Banker Old man 

Gregory Grimes. Lester's Private Secretary Eccentric Comedy 

Ebenezer. Glenn's Butler Negro Comedy 

Olive I Glenn's I Juvenile lead 

Sally ( Daughters | Soubrette 

Maria. Wife of Pedro Character 

NOTE. — Glenn and Garcia may double. 

Act 1. The Glenn Mansion, New York City. 

Act 2. The Isle of Santa Cruz, off San Domingo. One month 
later. 

Acts 3 and 4. Lester's home at Santa Cruz. Five months later. 
Between Acts 3 and 4 one day elapses. 

SYNOPSIS OF INCIDENTS 

Act 1. Handsome drawingroom at Glenn's. Sally and Ebenezer. 
"I isn't im.puttinent, no, no. JNIissy." "Papa can't bear Gregory 
Grimes, but I'm going to marry him, if I feel like it." "Going 
away?" "I was dizzy for a moment, that was all." "This mar- 
riage is absolutely necessary to prevent my disgrace." "General 
Lester, you are a noble man and I will repay my father's debt of 
honor." "Robert Glenn is dead." 

Act 2. Isle of Santa Cruz. "Mark brings his American bride to 
his home today." "You and I and our child will be no better than 
servants." "How can I help but be happy with one so good and 
kind?" "It means that I am another man's wife." "Dat's mine; 
don't you go to readin' my lub lettahs in public." 

Act 3. Sitting-room in Lester's house. "What has happened?" 
"Is my husband safe?" "Break away, give your little brother a 
chance." "To tell the truth, my heart is breaking." "Debt of 
duty! and I was fool enough to think she loved me." 

Act 4. "The illness of the general has an ugly look." "The 
gossips have it she would rejoice to be rid of her husband." "Tho 
Gilbert Hall I loved is dead." "Standing on the brink of the grave, 
my vision is clearer." "Forgive, and I will devote my life to 
making you happy in order to repay the debt I owe ycu — a debt of 
honor." 

Address Orders to 

THE DRAMATIC PUBLISHING COMPANY 

CHICAGO. ILLINOIS 



Won Back 

A Play in Foar Acts 

By 
CLIFTON W, TAYLEUR 

Price, 25 cents 

Six male, four female characters. A play written in the same 
vein as "Held by the Enemy," "Shenandoah," "Across the Poto- 
mac," and other great New York successes. Mr. Tayleur has writ- 
ten many successful plays, but this striking- picture of the stirring 
times of the Great Rebellion surpasses them all. Costumes, civil 
and military of the period. Scenes, two interiors, and one land- 
scape with Confederate camp, easily managed. Time of playing, 
two hours and thirty minutes. 

SYNOPSIS OF EVENTS 
ACT I— Drawing-room, Arlington, Washington— J 860 

"Whom first we love, you know, we seldom wed; 
Time rules us all: and life indeed is not 
The thing we planned it out. ere hope was dead, 
And then, we women cannot choose our lot." 
In fetters — The rivals — North and South — The coy widow — A 
rioted duelist— An old affection — The dismissal — The rivals meet — 
"You shall answer for this" — Farewell. 

ACT II — Same Scene— J 860 

*"Who might have been — Ah, what, I dare not think! 
We are all changed. God judges for the best. 
God help us do our duty, and not shrink. 
And trust in Heaven humbly for the rest." 
Broken ties — A Vassar girl's idea of matrimony — A Washington 
savage — Schooling a lover — Affairs of honor — The Northern fire- 
eater — The missing challenge — Betrothed. 

ACT III — Drawing-room in New York Hotel— J 86 J 

*'With bayonets slanted in the glittering light 
With solemn roll of drums. 
With starlit banners rustling wings of night. 
The knightly concourse comes." 
To arms! To arms!— Stand by the flag— A woman's duty — A 
skirmish in the parlor — On to Richmond — Reunited— The passing 
regiment. 

ACT IV— Confederate Camp at Winchester 1864 

"No more shall the war cry sever, or the winding river be red; 
They banish our anger forever, when they laurel the graves of our 
dead." 
A cowards' armor — A hand to hand struggle — Hugh captured — 
Sentenced to be shot — A ministering ansrol — Harold King's re- 
venge — The attack on the camp— Death of King — After the battle — 
Won back. 

Address Orders to 

THE DRAMATIC PUBLISHING COMPANY 

CHICAGO, ILLINOIS 



Hageman^s Make-Up Book 

By MAURICE HAGEMAN 

Price, 25 cents 

The importance of an effective make-up is becoming inure appar- 
ent to ttie professional actor every year, but liitherto there has been 
no book on the subject describing the modei^n methods and at the 
same time covering all branches of the art. This want has now 
been filled. Mr. Hageman has had an experience of twenty years 
as actor and stage-manager, and his well-linown literarv ability has 
enabled him to put the knowledge so gained into shape to be of 
use to others. The book is an encyclopedia of the art of making up. 
Every branch of the subject is exhaustively treated, and few ques- 
tions can be asked by professional or amateur that cannot be an- 
swered by this admirable hand-book. It is not only the best make- 
up book ever published, but it is not likeiy to be superseded by 
any other. It is absolutely indispensable to every ambitious actor. 

CONTENTS 

Chapter I. General Remarks. 

Chapter tl. Grease-Paints, their origin, components and use. 

Chapter III. The Make-up Box, Grease-Paints. Mirrors, FacQ 
Powder and Puff. Exora Cream. Rouge, Liquid Color, Grenadine, 
Blue for the Eyelids, Brilliantine for the Hair. Nose Putty, Wig 
Paste. Mascaro. Crape Plair, Spirit Gum, Scissors, Artists' Stomps, 
Cold Cream, Cocoa Butter, PtCcipes for Cold Cream. 

Chapter IV. Preliminaries before Making up; the Straight Make- 
up and how to remove it. 

Chapter V. Remarks to Ladies. Liquid Creams, Rouge, Lips, 
Eyebrows, Eyelashes, Character Roles, Jewelry, Removing Make-up. 

Chapter VI. Juveniles. Straight Juvenile Make-up, Society 
Men, Young Men in 111 Health, with Red Wigs, Rococo Make-up, 
Hands, Wrists, Cheeks, etc. 

Chapter VII. Adults, Middle Aged and Old Men. Ordinary Type 
of Manhood, Lining Colors, Wrinkles, Rouge, Sickly and Healthy 
Old Age, Ruddy Complexions. 

Chapter VIII. Comedy and Character Make-ups. Comedy Ef- 
fects, Wigs, Beards, Eyebrows. Noses, Lips, Pallor of Death. 

Chapter IX. The Human Features. The Mouth and Lips, the 
Eyes and Eyelids. the_Nose. the Chin, the Ear, the Teeth. 

Chapter X. Other txposed Parts of the Human Anatomy. 

Chapter XL Wigs, Bearcfs, Moustaches, and Eyebrows. Choosing 
a Wig, Powdering the Hair, Dimensjons for Wigs, Wig Bands, Baltl 
Wigs, Ladies' Wigs, Beards on Wire, on Gauze, Crape Hair, Wool, 
Beards for Tramps, Moustaches, Eyebrows. 

Chapter XII. Distinctive and Traditional Characteristics. North 
American Indians, New England Farmers, Hoosiers, Southerners, 
Politicians, Cowboys, Minors, Quakers, Tramps, Creoles, Mulattoes, 
Quadroons, Octoroons, Negroes. Soldiers during War, Soldiers dur- 
ing Peace, Scouts, Pathfinders, Puritans, Early Dutch Settlers, 
Englislimen, Scotchmen, Irishmen, Frenchmen, Italians, Spaniards, 
Portuguese, South Americans. Scandinavians, Germans, Hollanders. 
Hungarians. Gipsies, Russians, Turks, Arabs, Moors, Caffirs, Abys-* 
sinians, Hindoos, IN^alays, Chinese, Japanese, Clowns and Statuary, 
Hebrews, Drunkards, Lunatics, Idiots, Misers, Rogues. 

Address Orders to 
THE DRAMATIC PUBLISHING COMPANY 

CHICAGO. ILLINOIS 



JAN 2 im 

LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 

PLAYHIO 

016 103 831 3 

And Entertainment Books. 

32^^^^ ^^^ largest theatrical booksellers in 
f^ the United States, y/e keep in stock the most 
complete and best assorted lines of plays and en- 
tertainment books to be found anywhere. 

We can supply any play or book pub- 
lished. We have issued a catalogue of the best 
plays and entertainment books published in 
America and England. It contains a full 
description of each play, giving number of char- 
acters, time of playing, scenery, costumes, etc. 
This catalogue will be sent free on application. 

The plays described are suitable for ama- 
teurs and professionals, and nearly all of them 
may be played free of royalty. Persons inter- 
ested in dramatic books should examine our cat- 
alogue before ordering elsewhere. 

We also carry a full line of grease paints, 
face powders, hair goods, and other '^m&^c-up 
materials. 

The Dramatic Publishing Company 
CHICAGO 



»5 



